


journey to the light

by trustmeimthe



Category: Dark Angel, Marvel (Comics), X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi, RP Timeline, good end au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-24
Updated: 2016-01-24
Packaged: 2018-05-15 22:31:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5802670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trustmeimthe/pseuds/trustmeimthe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>at the x-mansion, birthdays are a fairly common occurrence. but technically, this is ben's very first birthday.</p>
            </blockquote>





	journey to the light

**Author's Note:**

> this is a commission for [surfaceshine](http://surfaceshine.tumblr.com)! thank you as always for your exquisite ben-ing.

It's Anya's job to do - well, almost everything. Alex isn't one for remembering dates, not really; it's not one of his very few and very precise talents, like throwing energy beams and teaching and weight lifting and being kind to people, when he remembers to.

"And flexing," Anya pipes up from where she's hunched over a mixing bowl with flour dotting the tip of her nose, whisking furiously. "And never wearing shirts with arms on them."

Just for that, he walks around in a long-sleeved turtleneck for the next three days. It's miserable, but it's worth it for the way she pouts and complains. He just kisses the flour off her nose and lets his point stand in silence.

That's another one of his talents, silence is. He's good at being very quiet most of the time and exploding some of the time, although less now than he used to. He's learned a lot, even if he doesn't like to put it like that; it feels too organic to be a lesson or anything, more like just living, living and experiencing and appreciating and that. That's good enough.

He's good at keeping quiet, so that's what his role is. Anya bakes the cake and makes the appetizers and the dinner, and she plans and hangs the decorations, and she buys the presents, except for the one that Alex makes himself, the one he's insanely nervous about and keeps checking in with her over, _are you sure it's enough? are you sure? should I get something else in addition? instead of? should I start over?_ She punches his shoulder and takes care of everything else, and his role is to keep the secret.

It shouldn't be difficult. Ben doesn't even know the day is coming. The truth is that it's arbitrary; whatever his birthday is, none of the three of them know it. They'd probably have to have the original file, the one from Manticore, to know for sure, and none of them want to have that, not near them or touching them or in their home. Alex doesn't even want the kids to know that it exists - they already treat Ben differently enough without even meaning to, they don't need another arbitrary division pushed up between them, another goddamn mountain range between Ben and _normal people_.

Anya sees him getting angry just thinking about it, so she comes over and puts a dot of flour on his nose so that she can kiss it away. Then she squeezes his upper arm through the turtleneck and giggles and goes back to the cake. "It's chocolate," she tells him, while he goes furiously red.

It shouldn't be difficult, but the trouble is that it's Ben, and Ben knows him so well it's legitimately terrifying. Ben knows the expressions he makes, the way he stands, the way he breathes at baseline normal, and that means that Ben knows that now he's keeping a secret. He can tell that it's worrying him, because sometimes there's the flicker of what he's beginning to think of as an anti-expression - not worry, but the complete absence of anything at all. A Manticore expression.

It's no good.

"It's a good secret," he caves and admits finally, but this doesn't seem to take. Ben remains unconvinced, although at least Manticore slips off his face, to be replaced by something puzzled, quizzical. "You'll like it, I promise," he adds, and, in a vain attempt at distraction, gives him a light, getting-used-to-it, testing-the-waters kiss. All this manages to do is send him red again and turn Ben's puzzlement vaguely amused.

What works, in the end, is when he takes Ben's hand and places it on his chest, over the tattoo that rests in turn over his ribs and over his heart, the one that says _100%_. Ben's expression melts into calm tranquility then, his eyes turning up ever so slightly at the corners. Transgenic smile. Alex traces Ben's lips with his thumb and is once again baffled by his luck.

"Will it be loud?" Ben asks, but now he asks it like he knows the answer - like he just needs to confirm.

"It won't be loud." Alex is looking at his mouth again. _Don't, he's talking._

"Who will be there?" A pause, and then another eye-smile. "You?"

"Me," Alex confirms, "and Anya. And that's all."

Ben's eyes widen fractionally. "You're conspiring against me."

"No." His correction is gentle. "We're loving you."

It's funny, the things that lead Ben to kiss him. Kisses come from him ever so rarely, and they're sometimes strange and ghostly things, as though he's half-learning and half-uncertain he should be, so he backs out halfway through. Alex never minds; it's just another part of Ben, what he is, what his world has made him.

This one, for some reason, is more solid - not completely, but _more_ , not exactly confident but very present, clumsy but honest in confusion and gratitude. Alex is very careful in his turn to leave his hand over Ben's on his chest, because he is here 100%, and because he needs to make sure Ben can feel his heart jackhammering.

It's June 19 when he leans on Ben's doorframe and says, "Come down to the kitchen. Your surprise is ready." That's his other role, they've decided; he gets to lead. Ben gets to follow. Anya gets to scheme.

Same as usual, really.

Ben rises from the bed in his bare feet and closes the gap between them until they're a few inches apart and that's all. Then he smiles with his eyes again, and just a little with his mouth.

"I'm ready," he says, and Alex has to duck his head to hide a grin.

They walk in sync down the stairs to the kitchen. The mansion is empty. "Everyone's on a hiking trip," Alex explains, and Ben looks mildly surprised, which means he's very surprised. The kitchen door is open, and they walk on through.

On the inside . . .

On the inside, there's Anya. She looks stunning, like she always does, but especially today, with her hair swept up off her neck and bright mischief in her eyes. She loves surprises. She loves making Ben happy. She loves scheming. She's so impossible and so viciously real.

On the counter next to her is a cake, chocolate with brown and white icing, and four presents. Two of them, Alex knows, are books. One of them is the one he made. The other is the one Anya made, and he doesn't know what that one is. Not yet.

There is one candle on the cake. Ben blinks at it, then at Anya, then at Alex, seeking explanation.

He wets his lips, then grins again, halfway to apologetic. "You graduated," he says, clears his throat, tries again, "on June 19." He almost adds _remember?_ But that's stupid. Of course he remembers.

Anya, who is more of a hero than he could ever be, pipes up then. "So we're calling that your birthday." Her voice is firm, authoritative. "Have some cake."

Ben's gaze flickers between them again. He mouths the word, _cake_ , and then touches his lips, like he's trying to figure out how to form the word again, or maybe what it means.

Alex nudges him in the side with his elbow, a touch that's light and barely-there. "Have some cake," he echoes. "Or I'll eat it all, you know?"

It means _I love you_. The look in Ben's eyes says he knows it. The way he reaches out to shyly grasp first Alex's hand, then Anya's, confirms it.

As it turns out, he won't let go of their hands. But that's all right. Anya feeds him with great dignity, and Alex opens his presents one-handed. They're like one big mess of a person, he thinks, and it's the happiest thought anybody's ever had, ever. He refuses to believe anything different.

**Author's Note:**

> my commissions post is [here](http://stabigail.tumblr.com/post/131784807902/more-what-ill-write-gorebody)!


End file.
